Hands Down
by jibber59
Summary: When things go wrong (and when don't they?), Ezra finds himself in need of support, and gets it from some surprising sources. (Rating for language, along with a little bit of my standard 'whumping' of poor Ezra.)
1. Chapter 1

_I had debated with myself as to which universe would host my previous notion (Out of Control) and the ATF world won. The voices in my head kept asking me how the premise might have played out in the Old West, and this is the result._

Chris and Buck watched the exchange going on in front of them with great amusement, all the while being ready to draw if things went wrong, as they so often did at moments like this.

"I repeat sir. You have the option of leaving this gaming table under your own power, being escorted away by the law, or being carried away by the undertaker. State your preference."

"And I repeat – I weren't cheating!" The scruffy cowhand tried to stare Ezra down, but the cool green eyes had suddenly become very intimidating.

"That you are cheating is not a matter for debate. It was amateurish, sad, and totally lacking in creativity. I expect if someone is intending to take advantage of me, they at least put some thought and originality into the effort. Now, have you determined how you will be leaving?" He saw the small twitch that indicated the fool had the intention of drawing his weapon.

"Before you make that final decision, allow me to point out that in the extremely unlikely event I fail to draw first, or for some unfathomable reason miss my mark, the two gentlemen now standing behind you will fire on you before my body hits the floor."

The man didn't turn. "You're bluff –". He heard the distinctive sound of gun hammers being cocked. "You'll still be dead," he stated nervously.

"Yes, but I shall die with the satisfaction of knowing you will never cheat anyone again."

"He ain't dying today." Chris spoke calmly. "And if you even think about twitching again, you'll be dead before you can act on it."

"Fine. I'm leaving." He took a couple of steps, then turned back. "Just what makes you so sure?"

"Please. If you have the desire to learn, then go back to class. Do I look like a schoolmarm to you?" Ezra calmly returned to shuffling the deck as the cheater left. The other players quickly followed, feeling perhaps today was not the best day for poker.

"I thank you for your intervention gentlemen, although I am not certain the effort was required."

"Well," Buck drawled lazily, "you know how Nathan feels about having to patch you up when you get into one of these messes."

"Why would you presume I would be the individual requiring Mr. Jackson's able assistance?"

"Experience," they both answered at once. Ezra huffed, but the grin on his face negated the impact. He indicated to the men to join him, holding the deck of cards up to question their interest. They sat, but both shook their heads at the gaming offer.

"Can't afford to play you Ez," Chris grinned. "Mrs. Potter needs to be paid this week."

Ezra called over to Inez, lifting his glass. "My usual please my dear, if you have a moment." She smiled and a moment later placed his drink in front of him.

"Dinner?" she asked all of them, shrugging on getting three negative responses. "Too early, darlin'," Buck added, to appease her.

Chris's comment was cut off by the noise from outside. A few shrieks were heard, followed by gunshots. All three men were at the door in an instant. Ezra turned to tell Inez to take cover, and was pleased to see she had already disappeared behind the bar.

They weren't entirely certain what was going on out there. What they did know is that JD was currently hunkered down in the livery, cautiously peering around the door to find a target. Josiah was further down the street, clearly having come from the church. From where he'd taken cover, Chris could see neither Vin nor Nathan, but had recognized the sound of Vin's rifle. Buck headed to the right as they left the saloon, automatically headed to where he could give JD some cover. Ezra took off in the opposite direction, positioning himself behind some barrels, still trying to figure out just what was going on. So far, he'd counted just two gunmen, and now could see another lying on the ground near the bank. _Wonderful,_ he thought to himself. _Is ours the only bank in the territory, making it the sole target for every thief in sight?_

"If you fellas hope to live to see sunset, you best hand over your guns." Chris's demand was met with gunfire from near the store. Buck had the best angle, and a moment later the shooter was down. Ezra hazarded a moment to look at Chris. "Apparently, they did not take kindly to your suggestion."

"They never do."

Ezra went back to scanning the street in front of him, and quickly focused on the would-be robber off to his left. He was about to turn to fire when a new gunman caught his eye. The man was coming up behind Vin, and the sharpshooter had no idea he was there, and none of the others appeared to be in place to take the shot. Ezra's own position was less than ideal, but he could see only one choice available. He reached his hand out between the barrels, firing once. Before he had the chance to retract his hand, he felt a blaze of heat surge through his arm, as the gun went flying from his hand, shot out by his original target. The pain surged through him, and he could not hold back the instinctive shriek. Josiah fired, bringing down the outlaw instantly.

Ezra collapsed back against the wall of the saloon, clutching his arm to his chest. He was mortified to realize the moans and whimpers he heard were his own.

"Vin!" Chris was shouting for information. "Is that it? How many were there?"

JD was running toward them from the livery, and provided the answer. "There was four of them Chris. We got them. Guy Buck shot is still alive."

"Who's hurt?" Nathan was running toward the scene. "I heard a shout, who's hurt?"

"Over here Nathan." Chris was already kneeling next to Ezra, trying to figure out where he'd been hit. Nathan rolled him over gently, as the moaning got softer and weaker. "Oh, dear God. We got a get him to the clinic."

"His room's closer," Chris made the decision. "He'll be more comfortable there. JD, get whatever Nathan will need from his place."

Josiah stooped to pick Ezra up, resulting in another gasp of pain, as the gambler fell into the darkness. He wasted no time in rushing him up the stairs. Vin had already gone ahead, opening Ezra's door, and getting some light into the room. He'd only had a glimpse at the injury, but that was all it took to know things were bad. The kind of bad that never ended well.

Nathan quickly put a tourniquet on Ezra's arm, hoping to stem the bleeding. He'd never been more grateful to have a patient unconscious than he was when he took a closer look at Ezra's hand. He stared for a moment, uncertain where to start. He could only assume that the bullet that impacted the weapon had caused the remaining bullets in Ezra's own gun to explode. The hand was blackened by gunpowder burns. As if that wasn't enough, the gun itself must've shattered, peppering Ezra's hand with shrapnel wounds. The overall impact had likely broken bones as well. Ironically, as far as Nathan could tell, there was no bullet wound. Not that that mattered. There was enough other damage. Maybe too much other damage.

"How bad is it Nathan?" Chris asked softly. Nathan just shook his head. "But it's not going to kill him, right?"

"As long as I can keep the bleeding under control, he'll survive." Nathan's voice was flat.

"And the hand?"

"I don't know Chris. I just don't know." JD came charging at that moment, arms full of everything he could grab from Nathan's clinic. "He gonna be okay Nathan?" JD asked breathlessly.

"Out. Everybody out. I need to work on him and I can't do with you all standing around."

Josiah remained where he was. "You may need someone to help hold him still. I'm not leaving."

The others reluctantly stood and left, each glancing back on their way out. Chris pulled the door closed behind him. "Where's Buck?"

"Like I said, one of them is still alive. He's tossing the jackass in the jail."

"He need doctoring?"

"Nothing that won't keep. Nathan's got more important things to do."

7-7-7-7-7-7-7

Two hours later, the men were still waiting downstairs for word on Ezra.

"Do we have names for these bastards?" Chris growled his question at JD.

"According to the one we locked up they're part of the Walton gang."

"Never heard of them."

"Like because they aren't all that good, or smart. Two of them are brothers, the others just tagged along. The one that shot Ezra was Timothy. Course, Ezra shot his brother, so –"

"So, what? That makes it okay?" Buck snapped.

"No. That ain't what I meant. All I was gonna say is that means they're both dead now."

"Yeah, sorry JD." Buck finish the rest of his beer in a single swallow and signalled to Inez for another. Chris, in turn, signalled her not to bring it.

"That won't help. And it won't help Ezra either."

"Is anything gonna help him? What the hell was he thinking?"

"Wasn't thinking most likely. Going out was a stupid move on his part. And I'll admit, on ours too. We'd been watching him sit at that table half the afternoon drinking and gambling. Shouldn't have let him get into a gun fight, but damn it, he shoulda known better."

"It all happened too fast for you to reason that out Chris. Now that I think about, I'm kinda surprised he could even get out to the street the way he was tossing back his whiskey." Buck thought back and figured Inez had brought over at least four drinks, and maybe more.

"Booze and guns is a bad mix. Wouldn't have thought I'd need to point that out to him."

Inez seethed on the sidelines, listening to them try to spread out the blame, and lay most of it right on Ezra. She knew, at one level, that they were all worried about the gambler. Nathan had been up with him for some time now, and that was never a good sign. Clearly the injury wasn't fatal, unless infection set in, but that didn't mean it wasn't serious. She'd seen how bad things were when she took fresh water and towels up for them. Ezra was half awake again at that point. His hand looked so bad, and it didn't take more than a glance to see that he was in pain, although Nathan's potions seemed to be helping. But his eyes showed much more than that. Fear. Terror. Losing his hand would destroy him. She didn't doubt for a moment he would prefer death to that option.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of customers. No, not customers, just Vin and Josiah. Vin pulled up a chair to sit between Chris and JD, while Josiah came over to pick up beers for all.

"Nathan's trying to get him to drink something to help him sleep. Ezra is being his usual co-operative self."

"What's the outlook?" JD asked hesitantly.

"So far, he gets to keep the hand, but it's busted up bad." Josiah sighed as he placed the drinks on the table. "Ezra's not talking, so that gives you some idea of just how scared he is by all of this."

"Damn fool. How could he have been so stupid as to expose himself that way?" Vin hadn't seen what happened, but Josiah had filled in the details.

"He'd had too much to drink. Shouldn't have been out there." Chris repeated himself, knowing the explanation didn't sound right somehow. JD and Vin both looked down at their beers and silently pushed them aside.

"Still, not like him to be so careless."

"Mistakes happen Vin. This one was just worse than most." Chris stopped speaking at the sight of Nathan coming in.

"He's settling down some. Finally got some tea into him, so hopefully he'll fall asleep soon. Mary's watching him for a couple of minutes. He's way too quiet for my liking, and that ain't something I ever expected to say about him."

"Think it would help if we talk to him?" JD asked. "You know – tell him everything is gonna be OK?"

"He's not likely to believe you, but I don't see that it could hurt. But go easy on him. No blame, no guilt. I'm sure he feels bad enough about screwing up." Chris nodded, knowing that speech had been directed at him. They all rose and left the table, only to be startled by the sound of breaking glass as several beer mugs hit the floor. They turned to see Inez staring at them, then looking quickly down to the tray she had dropped. "What can I say, accidents happen." Buck gave her a puzzled smile as he stepped over to help, but she turned her back to him and began her clean-up. Shrugging, he turned back and joined the others.

Mary had lowered the light in Ezra's room. He was pretending to be dozing off, but she knew better. "Mr. Standish, I have a young son. I know when someone is pretending to be asleep."

"I had no intention of misleading you madam. I simply have not desire, or stamina, for conversation."

"So why is it you look like you have something you want to say?"

Ezra reluctantly opened his eyes. "Young Mr. Travis must be very frustrated by your ability to read minds."

"Not as often as I'd like, but enough to keep him reasonably behaved. If you have something on your mind, I might be able to help. Or at least call Nathan for you."

"No, please do not bring him into this discussion. Not yet."

"You're worried about how this is going to turn out, aren't you?" He gave an almost imperceptible nod. "Well that's to be expected. But Nathan is doing everything he can."

"I am aware of that, and am grateful. But I am also aware of the limitations. Not his, but those of the human body. I saw the damage done. I can feel it. Or rather, not feel it. There is pain, certainly. But there is also numbness and cold. Signs that my hand has been too badly damaged to recover. And I seriously doubt there is a significant future ahead for a one-handed lawman. Wouldn't you agree?"

"You do understand that you are much more than just that in this town now, don't you?"

"That there would be other avenues for me is not in question. But my reason for staying here would cease to be. I don't know that I could bear to remain and not serve in the role I have learned, to my great shock, to cherish." He stopped speaking, hearing a herd of footsteps approaching. He was grateful for the interruption, as he had said far more than he intended. Must be the effect of the tea. "Please Mrs. Travis, share nothing of this conversation. I would be obliged if you forget it even happened."

"I can't do that, but I will keep your confidence."

"Confidence?" Josiah repeated as he opened the door. "Well that's a word I like to hear. Feeling a bit better about things son?"

"Not especially, but Mrs. Travis is doing her best to change that. I presume Mr. Jackson has informed you of the less than optimistic prognosis."

"No Ezra. Told them what I told you. Your hand is busted up bad, but it's too early to say anything more than that."

"Hell, it's only been a few hours Ez. You gotta give things some time."

"I believe in this case, Mr. Wilmington, that time is not on my side."

"Never known you to fold so early in the game Ezra." Chris admonished lightly.

"In this case, it seems appropriate, given the fact I clearly do not have a winning hand. Or possibly a hand at all."

"You can't say that Ezra. Nathan said there's still a chance, and you told me winners don't quit."

"Yes Mr. Dunne, I did. Apparently, I am not a winner this time around."

"But you will be. Even if things don't work out the way you want, well that won't change everything. I bet you can play cards with one hand better than most folks can with two." JD winced, knowing that didn't sound nearly as encouraging as it had when he was thinking it. His reaction was confirmed when Buck smacked him in the back of the head.

"Don't concern yourself Mr. Dunne. I understand the intent of your comments."

"He's right Ezra. I don't doubt for a second you can still clean up at the tables whatever happens." Vin encouraged.

"Hell, probably do even better, since folks will assume you can't beat them with – well with a –" Buck stammered awkwardly.

"I believe the word you are looking for is handicap. Or perhaps deformity? Defect?" Ezra was getting too tired to try to deal politely with any of this. "Never fear gentlemen. I know my place, and will act according to your expectation. Now, if you don't object, I would like to get some rest, and I am sure Mr. Jackson would concur with that notion. I would like very much to be left alone."

"I'll stay with you for the night."

"I believe I just said I would like to be alone. If I need anything, or any assistance, I shall find a way to let you know Mr. Jackson. I have no doubt you will be close by. I trust one of you gentlemen will escort Mrs. Travis home."

They turned, having forgotten she was there. "That's quite alright Mr. Standish." She was glaring at the men. "I will be perfectly fine on my own. You rest well. I'll be by in the morning with some breakfast for you." She turned and left without speaking to the rest of the team.

"What is wrong with the women of this town today?" Buck questioned.

 _TBC_

M7-M7-M7-M7-M7-M7-M7


	2. Chapter 2

Chris made his way over to the saloon first thing in the morning. He hadn't been all that happy about leaving the gambler on his own for the night, but he knew Nathan would be camped out just down the hall, and checking in on him frequently. And Ezra had seemed to be doing pretty well last night. This was a long way from being over, but with any luck, they'd made it through the worst of it. He was surprised to see one of the tables already occupied when he got there. Inez had had a late night, staying up with Ezra for some time, yet there she was, already sipping her morning coffee. More surprising was the company she was keeping. Mary Travis sat next to her, and Nettie Wells was at the table as well. That Nettie would have come to town this early wasn't a surprise, but to see her sitting there, well that was definitely unusual.

"Morning ladies." Chris could almost feel the chill from the glare they gave him. The sound of footsteps was a welcome diversion, and he looked over to see Nathan coming down the stairs.

"How's he doing this morning?"

"Haven't looked in on him yet. He was restless for quite a while last night, and since it's quiet in there now, I thought it best to let him sleep." He glanced over to the ladies at the table, then back to Chris with the question clearly on his face. Chris just shrugged. "Mind if I pour myself some of that coffee?" Nathan got the same glare Chris had received.

"Is there something you ladies would like to discuss with us?"

"There certainly is Mr. Larabee." Mary spoke with great determination, and underlying anger in her voice. Mr. Larabee? That did not bode well. Before Chris could ask for an explanation, Mary continued. "We can wait for the others to get here."

As if on cue, the batwing doors swung again, and JD and Buck entered the room. They misread the quiet. "Something happen? Is Ezra alright?" JD sounded anxious.

"Good of you to be concerned."

"Well of course I'm concerned. Why wouldn't I be?" He didn't get an answer, as the discussion was interrupted by the arrival of the final two. Vin smiled when he saw Nettie sitting in the corner. He'd been hoping to see her when she got into town today. The smile faded when he saw the look she was giving him.

"Sit down boys. Apparently, the ladies here want to give us a piece of their mind about something."

Nettie spoke first, focusing her attention on Vin. "I'm ashamed of you boy. Thought you were smarter than this."

Vin stunned. "I'm sorry Nettie. I don't know what your talking about."

"Of course you don't. You don't think you did anything wrong."

"None of you do." Inez added angrily. "None of you have any idea what you've done to him."

"Now just hold on. We haven't done anything to anyone. Wasn't our fault Ezra got hurt." Buck felt bad about what happened yesterday, but couldn't see why anyone would put the blame directly on them.

"No, it wasn't your fault he got shot. That's part of the risk he takes. All of you take. As **lawmen**." Mary put particular emphasis on the last word. "And that's what you all are, right?"

"What are you getting at Mary?" Chris wasn't in the mood for games.

"Answer my question Mr. Larabee."

"Yes. We are lawmen. We get shot at. What's your point?"

"And Mr. Standish? Ezra? You consider him a lawman too?"

"Course we do. Why would you even ask?"

"You wouldn't know it from the way you talked to him yesterday. 'You can still shuffle Ezra.' 'You can still deal Ezra.' 'You can still gamble Ezra'."

JD was puzzled. "Well that's important to him."

"So is what he does for this town. Would have been nice if at least one of you had reassured him that he was still able to protect this town. That he still had a place here in town. But the way he sees it, you only think of him as a gambler."

"How could you know that?" Chris demanded, the guilt that was building in him bringing his temper up to a boil.

"How could you not?" Mary shot back.

They sat quietly. Chris thought back over the conversation, and realized Mary was right. "I wouldn't have thought we'd need to tell him that."

Inez shook her head. "Really? Knowing how long it took until any of you decided that maybe he could be trusted. That maybe he wasn't the same man you first met. How is he supposed to know you don't still think that way? Have you ever told him?"

Josiah looked up, speaking for the first time. "You really think he still doesn't know that? That he still believes we don't trust him?"

"But you don't trust him. Anybody listening to you yesterday would know that you don't trust him."

Buck was completely stunned by that suggestion. "What the hell are you talking about Inez? Of course we trust him."

Inez stood and went over to the bar, grabbing a bottle and a couple of glasses. She took them to the table, setting one in front of Chris and one in front of Buck. She poured a shot into each class. "Drink."

"It's 8 o'clock in the morning Inez. I'm not about to drink Ezra's favourite whiskey, especially not at 8 o'clock in the morning."

"Drink," she repeated. Her tone indicated she was not about to accept no for an answer.

Buck shrugged, looking at Chris. "Fine. But when Ezra yells at me and Chris for doing this, you get to be the one to tell him it was your idea." Buck reached down and picked up the glass, wincing slightly as he prepared to drink it back. Chris was about to do the same, when he got a sniff of the amber liquid inside.

"What the hell is this?"

The grimace on Buck's face as he reluctantly swallowed showed he had the exact same question. "I've tasted a lot of whiskey in my day. Nothing like this."

"Senor Standish taught me how to make it. It's sweet tea."

"This is what he was drinking?"

"He never drinks when he gambles. He rarely drinks at all. One real glass at the beginning, usually watered down. He says only a fool would drink while he gambles. And Senor Standish is not a fool."

"So, he was stone cold sober when he went out there?" Chris registered.

"Of course. **He** is not a fool." Inez repeated.

"You apparently think otherwise," Mary added. "You don't trust him do know how to handle himself. How to do his job."

Nettie stood up, looking at the men with disapproval. "You all claim to be his friends. You claim he's part of the team. But when something goes wrong, you waste no time before you put the blame on him."

Vin could see what they were getting at, but he was still confused by one thing. "It doesn't make sense Nettie. If Ezra was sober, and I ain't arguing that he was, how the hell did he make a careless mistake like he did? How did he let himself get shot like that?"

"Why are you so sure he made a mistake? I'm thinking he knew exactly what he was doing, and I can only think of one reason he'd take that kind of chance."

Vin had to fight to catch his breath, as he realized what she was saying. "Ezra shot him? Ezra took out the guy behind me? I thought that was you Chris?"

"I thought it was Josiah," Chris replied.

The big man shook his head "I took out the guy that shot Ezra. The angle he was at, he could see the fella coming. Hell, he could see both of them."

"Took out the bastard behind me knowing he'd get shot. Stupid son of a bitch." Vin's voice cracked as he spoke. "Coulda got himself killed. Damn near did." All six men sat quietly, none of them willing to look the ladies in the face. How could they have been so stupid? How could they have been so blind?

Mary looked at the other two women. "Looks like they've seen the light."

"About damn time." Nettie said, a hint of a smile crossing her face.

Inez was not quite as willing to forgive them yet. "All that's left now is for them to talk to him. Make things right."

"What do you think Nathan?" Chris looked to the healer for advice. "Think he's up to dealing with our load of guilt?"

"I doubt it Chris. Last time I looked in on him he was pretty restless. He didn't have a fever starting then, but I'll be surprised if he doesn't have to fight something. There was a lot of hurt to that hand."

Vin looked up, not entirely sure he wanted an answer to the question he was about to ask. "Too much hurt?"

Nathan just shook his head, shrugging slightly. "It's hard to say. As long as he doesn't get a bad infection, and assuming he behaves himself – which none of you ever do –I don't think his life's in danger. But you've seen how fast things can change."

Chris looked over at the table where their three accusers still sat. Why is it he could stare down the worst gunman around, but these three ladies were making him ridiculously nervous? "You're right. We screwed this up, and we need to talk to him. But he needs to get better first." He held up his hand to stop their inevitable replies. "Don't worry, I'm going to go up and see him. I just don't think we should all charge in on him. More likely to make things worse."

To his surprise, and relief, all three women nodded. Nettie was the first to speak. "Nice to see you using your head."

"I need to go up with you Chris." Vin spoke so softly he could hardly be heard. "I need him to know that –" he took a deep breath, trying to calm down. "I need him to know that I know what he did. I need to talk to him."

Nettie smiled. "That's my boy."

Nathan stood, holding both hands up to signal that no one was going anywhere. "Let me look in on him first." He looked over to the large wall clock. "At best, he's had about four hours sleep. If he still sleeping, I don't want any of you in there." He turned and headed upstairs.

Inez pushed herself up from her seat. "Well ladies, I believe our work for the morning is done. At least here. If you'll excuse me, I have a business to get back to."

Nettie stood as well. "Yes, as nice as it has been to set for a while, I best be doing what I came into town for as well." She glanced over to Vin. "If you can't be seeing our fancy friend right now, I could use a hand with my supplies."

Vin smiled gratefully. "I'll be with you soon as I can. Thank you, Nettie"

"God damn stupid son of a bitch." Nathan's shout from upstairs had them all running. They stopped in the doorway of Ezra's room. Nathan stared at them. "He's gone. Took off."

"What the hell do you mean he's gone? I thought you said he was too sick, too hurt?"

"Seriously Buck? When has something like that stopped Ezra from doing something foolish and pigheaded? I shouldn't have listened to him. I should've stayed with him all night."

Chris was hoping there was a logical reason for this, knowing in his heart that wasn't. "Before we all panic, are you sure he's left? Maybe just went outside to –" he paused, realizing the ladies were in the room.

"I thought of that," Mason replied. "Bed's cold. He's been out of it for a while."

"It doesn't mean that's not what he was doing." Vin spoke as he headed for the door. "Just got to tired to get back. One easy way to figure this out." They followed him downstairs and stepped out of the saloon, looking up and down the streets, as if expecting Ezra to simply appear. Vin headed directly to the livery, and a moment later they heard more swearing. He came out again, heading toward his wagon. "Chaucer's gone. I'm gonna to get my gear and start tracking him."

"Hold up." "You ain't stopping me Chris. I'm gonna find him."

"No. We're going to find him. But we're not going out without a plan."

Vin pulled what gear he would need out of his wagon. "I don't need a plan Chris. He's not gonna be hard to track."

"Where you can start? Which would you figure he left?"

Vin turned to Nathan. "Would he have been thinking clearly?"

"Course not. He's wounded, weak, and in pain. And he took off in the middle of the night. How can you ask if he's thinking clearly?"

"You know what I mean. Would he be able to put a plan together?"

Nathan took a deep breath and try to calm down. "Yeah, he could probably think that through. And follow through on it."

"So, he's likely headed to a town. He'll try to avoid going anywhere people will recognize him too quickly. Wants to give himself a couple of days to get ahead of us."

"What? He thinks we won't come after him?" JD was dumbfounded by the idea.

"No, he assumes we will. At least I hope he does. That's why he'll probably do what we least expect him to. So, I'm gonna had north. If I don't see tracks from Chaucer in the first mile or so, I'll circle 'round until I do." He headed off to mount up.

"Hold on." Chris turned to the others. "Nathan, get what Ezra's going to need when we catch up to him. You and I are going with Vin. The rest of you need to stay here." He kept talking over the protests. "We've got a prisoner to take care of, and there may be more idiots in that gang. Plus, there's a chance Ezra could come back on his own." About as much chance as an icicle in Hell, but a chance nevertheless.

7-7-7-7-7-7-7

it hadn't been that hard to follow Ezra. Clearly, there been no effort to hide his tracks. Whether that was because he didn't think anyone would follow him, or whether he just didn't have the energy, no one was certain. They were just grateful he'd made it so easy.

It was early afternoon when they'd arrived in Bakersfield. The town was about the same size as Four Corners, and they knew if this is where he'd stopped, there'd be no trouble finding him.

"Stables would be the first place to look. No matter what, he'd make sure Chaucer was taken care of." Chris lead them toward the large building at the end of the street. Vin dismounted first, looking inside, then turning back with a grin. "Yep, he's here."

"Can I help you gentlemen?" Then turned to see the stable hand coming toward him. The boy appeared to be about twelve or thirteen, and anxious to help.

"We're looking for the fellow who rode in here on him. Any idea where he might be?"

The youngster's eyes pulled away from Vin's face. "Uh, no, s-sir." The nervousness was evident. "Just left the horse here."

Chris looked down at him, fixing him with an ice-cold stare. "He said, we're looking for the man who rode in on that horse. Where is he?"

"Don't Chris. The kid's just doing his job." Nathan smiled at the young man. "He's a friend of ours. He's hurt, and he needs our help. Please, if you know where he is, you need to let us know."

The young man raised his head enough to glance at the trio. Yes, they were intimidating, but they were also worried. You could see that clearly. "He paid me not to say anything. So, I'm not going to tell you where he is." Before Chris could reply, the youngster continued. "What I will tell you, is if you're looking for a place to stay, there's only one in town. Mr. and Mrs. Wilson have a boarding house. Other end of the street, door's painted blue." The young man turned away and went back to cleaning the barn.

"Kid?" Chris dismounted quickly. "Take care the horses for us. We'll be back."

They got a similar reaction at the boarding house. It was obvious Ezra had done what he could to make himself inaccessible. Again, they didn't know whether it was because he thought they'd come, or if it was simply habit. Either way, the delays were getting frustrating.

"We know he's here. We don't mean to cause any trouble ma'am," Vin was trying his best to charm her. "He's our friend, and we're worried about it."

"Why would you be worried about him?"

Nathan figured honesty was the best policy. "He was hurt, pretty bad. He may be able to hide it for a while, but he needs our help."

Mrs. Wilson studied them for a moment. She'd been in this business for a while, and thought she was a pretty good judge of character. "He didn't look sick or hurt. But I admit, he looked pretty tired. Said he been riding for some time."

"Please ma'am, let us up to see him. If he's all right, if he doesn't need us, we'll be on our way." She looked at the man who was clearly the leader of the group. She had no doubt she couldn't stop him if she tried. The fact that they were asking, and not demanding, was what finally made the difference. She reached into a desk drawer and pulled out a ring of keys. "Follow me."

At the top of the stairs she walked up to the first door, tapping lightly. "Mr. Standish? I'm sorry to intrude, but there are people here to see you. I really think you should let them in." There was no sound from within, so she knocked again. "Mr. Standish?" Still hearing nothing, she let out a small sigh, and unlocked the room. She gasped at the sight before her.

Chris needed no more incentive to push past her, running to the unconscious form on the floor. "Ezra? Ezra can you hear me? Nathan, he's burning up."

Nathan was already at his side. "Help me get him up on the bed. Try not to disturb that arm any more than you have to. Vin, get the stuff out of my bag and put it out on the table. Mrs. Wilson, we're going to need hot water. And towels or sheets - lots of them."

It was obvious Ezra had barely made it up to the room before giving in to the pain and sickness that ravaged him. He had dropped to the floor after taking no more than a half-dozen steps into the room. His bag lay beside him on the floor where it had fallen. His arm was swollen and discoloured, almost all the way to the elbow. The bandage was a sopping, discoloured mess from blood and fluids. He was drenched in sweat, shivering now despite the fever. He wasn't as feverish as Nathan feared he would be, but it bad enough. Ezra moaned softly when they moved him, but showed no signs of waking up.

"We gotta get him out of these wet cloths and try to cool him down. Chris, go down and get the hot water from Mrs. Wilson so I can clean him up. I'm going to need cold water too. As much as you can get. If there's an ice house in town, that would be better."

Vin had already poured water from his canteen onto a cloth and was wiping Ezra's sweat covered face. "Can you help him Nathan? Are we in time?"

"Yeah, I think we're in time. He's going to be mighty sick, but I've seen worse. He should be able to make it through this."

Vin could hear the hesitation. "Is he going to lose the hand?"

"I wish to God I knew."

7-7-7-7-7-7-7

For what felt like the thousandth time, Nathan wrung out a cooling cloth before placing it on Ezra's forehead. He been sitting with the man for hours now, only sometimes stepping away to let Vin or Chris take over.

There had been little sign of improvement. Granted, Ezra didn't seem to be getting worse, but that was small comfort. He'd wrapped and rewrapped the hand several times, applying poultices and ointments to try to fight off the infection. He was sure it hadn't spread further, having marked the point on Ezra's arm with a colouring to show the infection had taken hold. It had moved only a fraction beyond that first line, then began slowly pulling back. As long as he could keep it from flaring up, he was confident Ezra would be alright.

The other two problems worried him more. There was no sign of movement in the hand it all. He had poked and prodded at it. Ezra had responded to nothing, and Nathan now believed that the nerves and muscles had been severely damaged. If he was right, there was no realistic hope the hand could ever again be useful. His focus now rested on saving the hand. It may not be functional, but at least it would spare Ezra what he would see as the humiliation of having a stump or some wooden replica.

A soft moan brought his attention back to Ezra's face. It was still glistening with sweat, even with the benefit of the cooling cloth. Nathan wiped him down again, noting the etched pain lines as he did. There was still enough fever and illness to be keeping him in a bad state.

"Wish I could do something about that Ez. But 'til you wake up and get a bit of strength back, I just don't think you should be taking anything."

"I'm sure he'd understand Nathan," Vin spoke softly, hoping he hadn't startled the healer. Nathan showed no sign of response. "He'd also know you're doing everything you can. Don't let this eat at you."

"Don't feel like it's enough."

"He would. He will."

"I don't know. He ain't gonna be too forgiving if he loses –"

"Don't finish that thought," Chris interrupted. "First place, he is not to lose anything. And whatever happens, he'll come around."

"May take a bit of time Nathan, but once the shock wears off, he'll come around." Vin agreed, hoping he was right. "You can't be blaming yourself."

Nathan looked Vin in the eye. "And how is that 'not blaming yourself' working for you?"

"That's different," Vin said softly.

"How?" Chris demanded.

"Because if I'd been more aware of what was going on, Ezra wouldn't be here now. None of us would."

"He shot a guy coming up from behind. Since when do you have eyes in the back of your head?" Chris challenged.

"If I'd been –"

"Knock it off. Both of you. If Ezra wants your guilt he'll let you know. Seriously doubt that's going to happen though. What he needs is support, not pity."

Another soft moan came, almost as if endorsing the sentiment. All eyes turned to him as Ezra shifted slightly on the bed. Nathan yet again removed the cloth, dipping it into the cool water and wringing it out. Chris reached out and took it from him.

"You two go get some rest. I'll stay by him for now. Go. I'll send for you if I need to."

Reluctantly both men left. Chris sighed deeply. "You best get better Ezra. Don't think I could handle losing the three of you."

 _tbc_

M7-M7-M7-M7-M7-M7-M7


	3. Chapter 3

Ezra woke up slowly, feeling more drained than he could remember ever feeling before. The room was dark except for the soft glow of a lantern in the corner. Strange. He had no recollection of lighting it. Or of going to bed for that matter. He closed his eyes again, trying to piece together what memories he did have.

He'd been beyond exhausted checking into the boarding house, and felt like death only slightly warmed over. He thought he done a good job of hiding that from the lady who ran the place, doubting very much that he would have been accepted otherwise. He remembered briefly thinking he hated the inconvenience he would cause her by dying on the premises.

Which raised an interesting question. Why wasn't he dead? And, equally perplexing, why was he actually feeling a little better than he had been when he arrived?

"Ezra, you really awake this time?"

Oh, dear God. He wasn't alone. But surely that voice couldn't belong to –

"Dammit Ezra, answer me!"

Yes, it was. "Mr. Larabee," Ezra choked out. "Yours was the last voice I expected to hear."

"Don't doubt it." He could hear the smile that was clearly on the man's face. He wished he had the strength to open his eyes again to see such a rare sight.

"Ezra, I need you to really wake up, just for a minute."

"Mr. Jackson? How many others are here? Did any of you remain to protect Four Corners? It is likely our protagonist from yesterday had colleagues."

"I'm here too Ezra, but the rest of us are back at home. And not yesterday. You've been out of it for over three days."

"And it's not 'any of you', Ezra. It's any of us. You're still part of the team." Chris tried to keep the anger out of his voice. "Despite this jack-assed stunt."

"No Mr. Larabee. Not us. Clearly, I have left the fold, as Mr. Sanchez would say."

"Ezra, you're a lawman. Any doubt anyone might have been foolish enough to have on that was gone when practically the first question out of your mouth wasn't to ask about you, or your condition, but to ask who was guarding home." Chris's tone left no room for debate.

"And the fact we didn't try to reassure you that you were first and foremost one of us, well that was just because it never occurred to any of us to doubt it," Nathan added.

"But you did doubt it. You doubted me."

"No. We were worried about you, and the choices we thought you'd made."

"You believed me to be drunk Mr. Tanner." Ezra must have been awake enough to hear the conversation in the saloon below him.

Chris answered for Vin. "Well now, to be fair, you put on a pretty good act to convince folks that you were drinking more than your share."

"To convince strangers, not those who supposedly know me." Ezra knew he was pushing his luck, but felt he had little to lose, and was really to tired to care.

"You're right," Vin answered. "We should've known better. But we couldn't figure out why else you'd expose yourself the way you did. Get yourself hurt so bad." He spoke in a softer tone now. "Until we figured out you were more focused on saving my life than protecting yourself. It was a damned stupid thing to do Ezra. Damned stupid."

"And we're all grateful," Nathan added sincerely." Chris nodded.

"Well I'm not grateful," Vin argued. "I'm mad as hell."

"Don't believe him Ezra. Oh, you can about the mad part, but when he's not mad at you, he's grateful." Nathan smiled as he spoke.

"Well, of course I'm grateful." Vin was getting flustered. "Only an idiot wouldn't be. But damn it Ezra, it was a stupid move."

"Would you not have done the same, had the circumstances been reversed?"

Vin lowered his head and mumbled, "Well, yeah, probably, but still…" He faded off.

"So, you are finally admitting that you are a better man than I?"

"Damn, that ain't what I meant, and you know it."

To everyone's surprise, Ezra chuckled softly. "Yes Mr. Tanner. I do know it. I just wanted you to understand my perspective on the matter."

Chris spoke to allow Vin a moment to reorganize his thoughts. "And you'd be every bit as mad at him as he is at you. Knowing you, madder."

"Quite likely true Mr. Larabee. None of this explains your presence here."

"It doesn't? I would think it pretty much goes to the core."

Nathan interrupted the angry response. "Chris, this isn't the time to fight. Ezra needs his rest and riling him up won't help."

"I am not riled Mr. Jackson. Perplexed, dumbfounded, and somewhat irked, but not riled."

"Whatever you are, you're flushed and sweaty. You still have a decent fever and you couldn't win a fight with a kitten, so you're going to lie back and shut up for at least the next 24 hours."

"I do not believe you are in any position to give me orders." Ezra's defiance was less than effective, given his rapidly increasing weakness and slurring speech.

"He may not be, but I am. You are still part of this team until I say otherwise, and you are getting rest. Now. And if you keep trying to argue –"

"Save your breath Chris," Vin grinned, "he's asleep."

"Oh." Chris had more threats planned, and was a little thrown off by his inability to voice them. "Well, good."

"Your turn to get some rest." Nathan pulled his chair near the bed. "Don't worry. I'll keep an eye on him."

"Nathan, he never even asked about his hand."

"I noticed that Chris. Likely because he doesn't really want to know the answer."

"What are you gonna tell him?"

Nathan shrugged, shaking his head slightly. "Damned if I know."

7-7-7-7-7-7-7

Aside from being wakened for food and other biological necessities, Ezra slept fitfully, and well beyond the mandated 24 hours. He was still warm, but the fever had clearly broken, with only traces the infection remaining. Another day or two of rest would take care of that.

Vin had sent a telegram saying they'd be back soon as they could, but not likely soon as they hoped. Chris continued to send updates to the others, threatening them within an inch of their lives if they abandoned Four Corners. His latest telegram targeted Josiah specifically, as the big man had already clearly voiced his impatience at the delay in seeing Ezra's return to good health with his own eyes. " _Home soon. Stop. Tell Josiah to stay put damn it. Stop."_

"I'm sorry sir. Not allowed to send profanity over the wires." Chris glared and was both impressed and angry that it had no effect. After a moment of staring the man down, he pulled the paper back and crossed out the offending word, writing dang instead. A moment later he crossed that off as well and added, "I mean it. Stop." He laid the required coins on the counter, snarled, and left. The telegraph operator had to wait almost 5 minutes for his hand to stop shaking enough to send the message.

It was into the third day before Ezra finally made an appearance outside of his room. Nathan watched him like a hawk, at the ready to chastise both Ezra and Vin, who'd been his accomplice in the excursion, but was silenced by a brief but effective "don't" from Chris.

Ezra made his way slowly to the luncheon table. He was fully dressed, right down to the cravat, although it was not nearly as neat as was his custom. He insisted on doing it without help, stating only that he needed to get used to doing things in a new manner.

"You don't know that Ezra. Nathan says the hand is healing well."

"Yes, he would, trying to encourage me. But as the body on the other side of the injury, the side that knows what it feels like, or more accurately doesn't feel like, I believe it is time to begin to adjust to my new requirements." He looked over when Vin didn't answer, and immediately saw the question he was trying to hide. "At this point, Mr. Tanner, those adjustments do not include relocation. I think I have enough to adapt to without adding that to the mix."

"Good to hear."

Now, seated at the table, Ezra looked less tired than Nathan had expected. And less stressed. Even his best poker face wouldn't have been able to hide the level of the anxiety they'd been expecting to see.

"How are you feeling Standish?"

"Resolved Mr. Larabee."

"Well that's an interesting answer, but a little vague."

"Well then, I am feeling rested enough to travel and at the same time too tired to fight with the reality any longer."

Chris wasn't sure he liked the sound of that, and evidently his face reflected the concern.

"No Mr. Larabee. I do not mean I am looking for a way out. I have come to understand the lengths you will go to in order to hold me to that particular pledge."

"What you mean then, not fighting reality?"

"Accepting it. As you all took such pains to point out, there is little I do on a daily basis that I cannot learn to do with one hand."

"That include helping us keep the peace?" Vin asked, certain he sounded every bit as anxious as he felt.

"My abilities in that area may be more adversely affected than others. I will simply allow that time and circumstance will determine the response."

"You couldn't just say we'll see?"

"I could Mr. Larabee, but it wouldn't be nearly as satisfying."

The next day, he was determined the time had come to head home. Ezra again turned away from the efforts to help him dress. He'd finally agreed to let Vin button the shirt for him, and had then put it on by pulling it over his head. Less than graceful, but still provided a modicum of self-sufficiency. He fumbled with the top two buttons, but eventually got them done. He eyed the spring-loaded holster that Vin had set out on the bed. It was designed for his right arm, but he could make it work on the left. He couldn't explain the curious reluctance he felt at the idea of strapping it into place. Vin said nothing when Ezra finally pushed it to the side and slipped his jacket on. He reached for his bag, only to have Vin grab it quickly.

"I am capable of transporting my own garment bag Mr. Tanner." He snapped, angry with himself for the display of temper.

"Not according to Nathan. He doesn't even want you riding today, so let's not make him any angrier than he already is." Ezra glared with no real conviction behind the look. Realizing resistance was a waste of his limited strength, he simply turned away and left the room. Vin took a quick look around to make sure nothing was left behind. He picked the Derringer rigging from the bed, slipping it into Ezra's bag, then silently followed.

He smiled at the scene waiting downstairs. No amount of discomfort, fatigue or anger could keep Ezra from being a Southern gentleman.

"My dear lady. I cannot begin to properly express my undying gratitude for the kindness and compassion you have demonstrated to me. You have been gracious enough to forgive my initial misrepresentation and have afforded me more kindness and hospitality than I could ever deserve."

Chris, too, was grinning at the display. It was no wonder Ezra had been so successful at conning folks out of whatever he needed. Immediately, he felt ashamed of himself. One look at Ezra's eyes showed the man meant every word he was saying. Sure, the style might be a bit over-the-top, but the sentiment was genuine. Chris wondered if he was ever going to stop seeing the con man side and accept this new reality. He supposed that might require Ezra accepting it as well.

"Mr. Standish, you would be welcome here anytime your travels bring you to this part of the territory. I sincerely hope to see you again."

He took her hand in his, and lightly brushed a kiss to the back of it, smiling to himself at the blush it brought to her face. He had kept his right hand hidden behind his back throughout the interaction.

For reasons he could not fully explain, Chris was always slightly uncomfortable at the reaction Chaucer seemed to have when he saw Ezra, especially if it'd been a while. There was something just a little too human about it. He thought sometimes it might be jealousy he was feeling, but that didn't feel quite right either. Today was no exception. He knew Chaucer wasn't grinning. It simply wasn't possible. Still, whatever it was, it worked. Ezra seemed truly relaxed for the first time in days. He stroked her gently at Chaucer's mane, turning after a moment to face the others.

"I cannot even hazard a guess as to how one of you was able to convince my equine friend here to allow you to groom him, let alone prepare him for today's ride. I do appreciate the effort that must've been involved."

"Nothing to it," Vin grinned. "We just explained the situation and he was agreeable."

"Yes, he can be persuaded to co-operate, when the mood strikes him."

"You two have that in common then." Chris couldn't resist voicing the observation.

Ezra mounted far more easily than any of them expected. He smiled slyly. "I have had to mount up with a gun drawn on more than one occasion. Doing so singlehandedly is almost second nature. I never imagined how useful that skill might someday be. When properly inspired, I can do it hands-free!"

"You are a man of hidden talents Ezra," Vin laughed. They rode out of town quietly. It was an awkward silence that continued for some time before Ezra finally let out a deep sigh. Nathan spurred his horse forward quickly.

"You okay Ezra? You need to rest?" The others immediately slowed.

"I am fine Mr. Jackson. Tired, assuredly, but would prefer to continue." He looked at the concerned faces. "I assure you gentlemen, I can continue. My unintentional vocalization was purely the result of a contemplation of my future."

"Do you plan to talk to us about it, or are you just going to take off again?" Chris regretted the question as soon as he had asked it, but Ezra didn't seem to mind.

"Yes, I acknowledge my actions were, at the least, inappropriate. I do plan to apologize _en masse_ on my return, but will gladly do so now as well if it is required."

"No Ezra, it isn't. I should've kept my mouth shut. I get why you did what you did. I don't like it, but I do get it."

"Well I don't." Nathan allowed a bit of his anger to surface. "Regardless of how you feel about us, and what we might've said or done, it was a stupid thing to do. Especially given how sick you were feeling."

"And that was part of the reason Mr. Jackson. I don't imagine I was in my right mind at the time."

"You were clearheaded enough to pack up and disappear in the middle of the night."

"Certain actions are intuitive to those of us whose history involves so many hasty retreats." It effectively silenced the conversation again.

They were close to home before anyone else spoke, with Chris being the one to finally shatter the quiet. "You want us to run interference for you Ezra?" Ezra arched an eyebrow as question. "Figure you're probably tired, and looking to avoid a lot of talk."

"I believe such action would be more than a little disconcerting to our comrades. I have no doubt they are, at a minimum, camped out at the edge of town awaiting our return."

"Doesn't mean you have to deal with it."

"It cannot be avoided indefinitely."

Chris took a hard look at the man. "No, but it can be for now. Ride ahead Vin. Back them off."

"They ain't gonna like it." he replied.

"Tough shit."

"Eloquently phrased, Mr. Larabee."

"Sorry. Don't got your way with words."

By the time they had arrived, the team had been relocated. They watched every step as the remaining trio rode in. Ezra turned Chaucer toward the livery, but Chris blocked the path. "Just head home Ezra. We'll settle Chaucer in."

"He has been neglected by me for far too long."

"He'll survive. You need to rest." Ezra was barely able to stay upright in the saddle, and couldn't offer a convincing argument.

The team watched from a relatively safe distance of the store veranda as Ezra tiredly all but fell from his horse. All eyes were focused on him as he whispered a few words to Chaucer before handing the reins to Chris. Knowing he couldn't completely ignore their concerns, Ezra turned to the men and quietly raised his good hand to the brim of his hat in a weary salute. Without speaking, he stepped inside, and headed up to his room.

tbc

M7-M7-M7-M7-M7-M7-M7


	4. Chapter 4

Over the next few weeks, Ezra rarely came out of his room, and when he did, it tended to be either to head to the jail for his duties there, or into the saloon, where he sat secluded in a corner. His table there was barely big enough for company, and certainly not suited for playing cards. It had taken no small amount of finagling to get Inez to agree to providing him with such an accommodation. She finally surrendered only after coming to the realization that he would simply stop coming down at all otherwise.

He never missed a shift at the jail. If there were no prisoners, he spent the time sorting through wanted posters, familiarizing himself with the details and culling the ones that were no longer valid. He'd come across a few names he'd been associated with in the distant past, and was pleased to discover most had met their justice in one form or another. He took great satisfaction in sending notice to a number of law enforcement officials that the wanted poster for Timothy Walton was no longer valid. It was gratifying to let them know the man had been killed an effort to rob the bank in Four Corners, and shooting a man in the process. The satisfaction was quickly replaced by melancholy as he went back to the dull routine that was now his daily existence.

This evening, he'd stayed later than usual, foregoing dinner again. He sighed slightly, knowing Inez would likely have at least a sandwich waiting for him, regardless of what time he showed up. For the life of him, he couldn't understand why she seemed to care so much about his habits.

The street was quieter than he'd expected, but then it was a chilly night and not much was worth being out for. Even the saloon was far less active than usual, as he noted the lack of conversation carrying out through the doors. He could see through the window and the room looked like a tableau. Not only was no one talking, no one was moving. He darted quickly to the wall, hoping he had not been seen. This could be as simple as an argument that had become a staring match, but every instinct he had told him it was more than that. He ran over in his mind where the rest of the team was, or at least should be.

Josiah was likely at the church, or even more likely sleeping at the church, as he'd had morning patrol. Buck had also been out early, but where he was spending the night was anybody's guess. Nathan was out on patrol now, and adding in a few house-calls along the way. Not likely to see him for some time. So, if the men were holding true to form, it was reasonable to assume Chris, Vin and JD were inside the saloon. That didn't bode well for a peaceful outcome to whatever was happening. He was mulling over his options when a hand clamped over his mouth from behind.

"Ezra it's me." Ezra almost dropped with relief at hearing Vin's whispered voice. "What's going on in there?"

"I was rather hoping you could tell me."

"Nope. Chris was supposed to meet up with me a few minutes ago. I figured he'd lost track of time here, although that's not really like him."

"Do you think you could see in better from a higher vantage point?"

"Not likely. Wrong angles."

Ezra paused for a moment. "I would say then, that the only chance to determine what is happening is to get in." He holstered the weapon he had reflexively drawn and started to step forward.

"You nuts?" Vin whispered harshly. "Could be all kinds of trouble in there."

"Which is all the more reason for you to remain here to come to our aid, if needed.

"Ezra," Vin couldn't stop himself from glancing at the man's hand.

"Yes," Ezra acknowledged the unspoken concern. "Which will allow them to perceive me as far less of a threat, wouldn't you agree?"

"At least give me a minute to get Josiah." Ezra was about to reluctantly agree when a soft, short scream came from inside, followed by the familiar Larabee growl. "Get your hands off her!"

"Or what?" Came a slightly drunken reply in a voice Ezra didn't know. It was all the incentive needed for him to be through the door in an instant, wobbling in an intoxicated manner himself.

"My friends – what a fine evening. I believe I shall celebrate with a round of drinks for all my friends." He hiccuped and belched loudly, drawing all eyes to him. Chris went from anger to amusement to concern in a matter of seconds.

"You got yourself some bad timing there, pal." One of the troublemakers stood behind the bar, gun in hand with an arm wrapped around Inez, whose blouse had been pulled at and torn. Ezra had rarely been more challenged to hold his face neutral.

"Oh, I don't know. Looks to me like I've arrived just in time for the party."

"Don't believe them Judd. He's one of them." Ezra turned drunkenly toward the voice that came from behind. He scowled at the gunman.

"Your information is out of date Sir. I **was** one of them, but as they had no use for a one-handed lawman," he nodded to indicate the unmoving hand, tipping slightly with the effort, "I found myself outside the fold, with a fine whiskey as my only friend." He hiccupped again, appearing to have significant trouble focusing on the man he was speaking to.

"You're drunk Standish." Chris snarled, hoping they'd buy the act. "Again. You were useless to us long before your hand went bad."

"Old news Mr. Larabee, and not appreciated right now."

The man behind Ezra reached forward and pulled the gun from his holster. "Then I guess you won't be needing this." He shoved Ezra forward, laughing as he struggled to stand, grabbing for the table and failing. He stumbled, but remained upright. Judd laughed behind the bar, loosening his hold on Inez in the process. It was all that was needed for her to gather her strength and firmly elbowed him in the stomach, stomping on his foot at the same time. He lost his grip altogether, and she pulled away. Chris had his gun drawn an instant later, and Judd dropped on the spot. He turned to go after the second shooter, doubting even he was going to be fast enough. He'd seen, from the corner of his eye, as the man raised Ezra's own gun against the gambler. His heart fell when he heard the shot fired, and it took a moment to realize it wasn't loud enough to be the revolver. He looked in surprise at Ezra standing over the body. The derringer in his right hand had a faint whisper of smoke rising from the barrel.

Vin charged in, freezing as well as the site in front of them. No one moved for several seconds until Inez ran from her spot to Ezra's side.

"Senor Standish." She was at a loss as to what to say after that, so reached out taking his head firmly in her hands, and pulled him into a kiss that took not only his breath away, but that of most of the observers as well. She smiled almost shyly when she released him, then ran from the room, grabbing her shawl for covering.

"You okay Ezra?" Vin asked. He got a somewhat stunned nod for response, so he turned the gambler to face him. "Your hand Ezra? You're holding onto your hand."

"That's because he used it to fire his derringer." Chris looked confused and concerned. "How the hell did you do that?"

"I did? I don't…?" Ezra gulped in a breath, trying to focus his attention on anything other than the wonderfully burning tingle on his lips. "Necessity," he was finally able to gasp out.

Vin reached out and gently checked the hand, only to have Ezra pull back sharply, pain creasing his face.

"Thought you couldn't feel anything?" JD asked quietly. He'd been making sure the two men were truly no longer a threat, but now joined the others again.

"I can't. I couldn't. I admit to being every bit as bewildered by this as you all are."

The "all" now included Josiah and a half-dressed Buck, who had both come running at the sound of gunfire. The men were grinning like kids at Christmas as Ezra slowly repeatedly flexed his hand. Josiah reached out and gently clamped his own hand over it when it became apparent he was hurting himself.

"Don't force it son. Think you ought to hold off on doing any more until Nathan can look. Maybe figure it what's going on."

'I don't care what he says is going on." Buck couldn't stop grinning. "That there is just about the most amazing thing I've ever seen."

"Nah," JD corrected with a smirk, "you missed the really amazing part."

"You mean when he actually shot the guy?"

"No. When Inez planted a kiss on him that would melt ice." Buck froze, the grin disappearing instantly.

Ezra took a half-step back in defence. "It was not my idea Mr. Wilmington." Buck saw the faraway look Ezra got as he spoke. "It was an excellent idea, but not mine."

"Well sure. She was grateful that you did what you did." Buck hoped it was a valid assumption, but Chris couldn't refrain from offering a more likely explanation.

"No. It was a lot more than gratitude. That was a woman taking advantage of a bad situation to do something she's been looking to do for a long, long time."

Buck was now glaring at Ezra, but it took only a moment till he recognized the futility. "We may have to have a little chat about all this, but I guess it'll keep for now."

Ezra allowed himself to be steered to a table to sit down, not really noticing the poorly hidden chuckles from the others. They all backed off slightly when Inez came out a minute later, covered by a sweater and carrying a towel full of ice, which she rested quietly on Ezra's hand as she sat next to him.

JD leaned toward Buck, taking his life in his hands. "Think she's gonna try to melt that ice too?" He ducked the hit Buck aimed, and darted from the room.

 _Two months later_

Ezra fanned the cards out in front of the children, then pulled the ace of spades from Billy Travis's jacket. They all cheered appropriately and ran off to practice this latest bit of magic. Ezra knew he'd be getting another lecture about encouraging the children to waste their time on such questionable activities, but he really couldn't bring himself to care right now.

He felt a small twinge as he gathered the cards together, and casually flexed his fingers. He almost immediately felt the eyes upon him, and looked up, not at all surprised to see Nathan watching.

"I assure you Mr. Jackson. I am not overextending my abilities."

"Not sure I completely believe you, but I guess I have to trust you know your limits. I'm just still trying to figure out why you have all those abilities back. Not," he added hastily, "that I'm sorry to have been wrong about all of it."

"As I have assured you in the past, I don't believe you were wrong. Every bit of evidence you had indicated that there is simply no reason this should have happened."

"I've been trying to find out more. Been reading about injuries like this from the war. They say the shock of the injuries sometimes causes as much problem as the damage itself. Folks just convince themselves, usually with the help of the doctor, that they aren't going to get better."

"So, this was all in my mind?" Ezra found the idea offensive for some reason.

"No, not entirely. Any fool could see your hand was hurt bad, so it was real. But you stopped trying. The hand kept changing every day, but you had no reason to see that. A big part of that's on me."

"I do wish you would stop taking the blame for this Mr. Jackson. I remain convinced it was your efforts from the moment this happened that have enabled me to recover to this degree." Ezra paused to ponder the situation. "So, you're saying when it was necessary for me to rely on my hand –"

"Exactly. It wasn't better, but it was getting there. You just kind of forced the issue. It was almost like your hand knew what to do, even more than you did."

"Got to say," Chris came up behind them, "I don't much care what the reason was. I'm just glad to have you back doing patrols."

Ezra took the none too subtle hint and, tipping his hat slightly, headed toward the livery. Chris's grin dropped a bit as he looked to Nathan, who answered without needing to hear the question. "Yes Chris, he can handle the ride. He's not quite 100%, but close enough. Besides, it's good for him to have something to do again. I mean other than cards and getting the kids in trouble with their parents."

"Oh, I'd say he's definitely found something else to do." Chris nodded toward the saloon, where Ezra had detoured on his way to mount up. Inez slipped out of the doors, providing her hero with another ice melting kiss before he headed out for patrol.

 _ **The end**_

 _ **M7-M7-M7-M7-M7-M7-M7**_

 _ **As always, thanks for the wonderful reviews and support. My Ego is very grateful (needy little critter that it is!)**_


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